


Friday Night

by thedevillivesinolives



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevillivesinolives/pseuds/thedevillivesinolives
Summary: Mantis just wants to be helpful and Rocket just wants to be left alone.





	Friday Night

Mantis watches him from across the room, daintily seated on a large block of scrap metal, hands clasped together tightly as she fidgets nervously. She looks like she wants to say something and Rocket makes the effort to ignore her, instead focusing on dismantling and reassembling a contraption in hand—deft claws pulling at frazzled wires and micro-sized screws with pinpoint precision. Tools are spread out around him, scattered amongst discarded machinery and refuse.

He tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice her staring, tries to pretend that it doesn't piss him off because he hates when people stare at him, but he's not a patient individual by any means and finds irritation building up inside his gut.

_If she wants to say something, then she can just say it!_

“…”

He sets down the contraption with a deceiving calm, his head raising and he meets her gaze. His annoyance must have been palpable because she flinches when their eyes meet.

“What?” his voice comes out even, but impatient.

She hesitates for a second, “Can I help?”

“Hell no,” he replies immediately, not even entertaining the thought.

She shifts in her seat before standing up and for a (satisfied) moment Rocket thinks she’s going to leave, but isn't suprised when she instead approaches him. He watches her carefully and tenses when she stops just in front of him and his mess—he doesn’t like the way she looks down at him. His frown deepens when she crouches beside him, her hands resting on her knees, legs drawn close to her chest. She looks at him with wide eyes.

“Please?” 

He reels at her sincerity but doesn’t show it.

_Where the hell was Drax!? Shouldn’t he be the one entertaining her! He wasn’t a damn babysitter!_

“If you’re so bored lady, then go find someone else to bug, ‘m busy!” he pauses for the briefest of moments, “And I ain’t no babysitter!” he adds for good measure before turning back to his work with finality. It’s all but quiet save the sound of his claw scraping against the metal of the inner workings of the contraption, but Mantis makes no indication that she intends to leave.

“But I wish to “bug” **you** ,” she replies lightly.

Rocket has some very choice words that he wants to tell her, none of them nice, but instead sighs in defeat and says, without even sparing her a glance, “Fine! You can _watch_ , but I ain’t lettin’ you touch nothing!” he says, annoyed, trying to hide his concern. What he was working on wasn’t something any amateur should be handling and he really didn’t want her blowing herself (and himself, by extension) up into stardust by accident.

“Okay!” she seems satisfied enough with this and continues to watch him with interest.

At first, Rocket is deeply perturbed by her staring (though he’d never admit it), but she doesn’t say a single word which makes it that much easier for him to ignore her. Before long, he’s working at a comfortable pace despite her presence. 

He works for hours.

“…”

Rocket sets the contraption down carefully, then rolls his head and shoulders, his muscles straining from hours of inactivity. He stops however, when he catches sight of Mantis (who, between the time, had made herself more comfortable—sitting cross-legged with her hands neatly folded against her stomach) and almost jumps out of his skin, having forgot she was there. He fights back the curses that try to escape his mouth. Thankfully, she seems too enthralled by the device and doesn’t notice his distress, instead staring down at it, her mouth in an “o”.

“You are amazing!” Mantis finally says, looking at him with such awe and wonder that his previous trepidation melts away and is replaced with a swell of pride.

"Damn right I am," he’s not one-hundred percent sure what he’s being complimented for however.

She leans over to get a better look at the contraption, amazed by his ability to just… _create_ , with his own two hands (paws), without the need of cosmic energies, like Ego had. He leans back, keenly aware that she’s very, very close and very much in his personal space. He resists the urge to shove her away.

Rocket spares her face a glance and pauses when he notices the admiration in her large starlit eyes. Her mouth is turned up into the softest of smiles, thin lips pursed together, and a stock of dark hair clings to her cheek. Involuntarily, he thinks about reaching out to push it from her face...And suddenly his heart is hammering away in his ears and he's overcome with an unfamiliar nervousness. He feels hot and cold at the same time and wants to say something but his voice is caught in his throat and all he can do it tear his eyes aware from her.

_What the hell was that?_

She leans back, sitting on her knees now, smiling, “Someday, I would like to make something by myself to,” she speaks almost wistfully, “Though I do not think that I could make anything as good as you are able to!”

He pointedly avoids looking at her and swallows hard, “Yeah well…” he rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable. Mantis, however, seems entirely oblivious to his internal struggle. She looks at him with dark eyes, expectantly, and he doesn’t realize until a moment too late that he’s hasn’t actually said anything else and they’re just sitting there, in silence. It's awkward. She doesn't seem at all concerned, but he was starting to feel distinctly embarrassed.

"Alright, alright!" he throws his hands in the air and she recoils at the sudden movement. He grabs a few of his tools from the floor before standing up with a huff and marching over to a nearby console. He hops onto a chair expertly and drops the tools on the flat surface—In front of him are several half-finished (and less deadly) mechanisms. 

Rocket looks at her, "Stop starin' an' make yourself useful!" his voice has far less bite to it than he intended. 

She gives him a confused stare.

He almost glowers, "You helpin' or not!?"

She suddenly perks up, nodding her head vigorously, "Yes!"

**Author's Note:**

> There's not too many fics about this ship, but what's out there right now is all just so wonderfully written and I was inspired to try and take a crack at it! Enjoy!


End file.
